


A Train, A Bridge, A Fall

by cvintbarton



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, bucky becomes captain america, peggy is a bamf, steve falls instead of bucky, steve isn't really in the first few chapters but he will turn up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:18:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvintbarton/pseuds/cvintbarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Steve falls off Zola's train Peggy convinces Bucky to become the new Captain America</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is focused on the events of Captain America: The First Avenger, but I'm planning on extending the fic out to The Avengers and Captain America: The Winter Soldier (and maybe even beyond that)

The evening after the failed mission (at least failed in the only way that matters) finds Bucky sitting in a bombed out bar, staring into a drink.

_An explosion knocking him off his feet_

_Falling out the hole in the side of the train_

_Somehow grabbing a railing on the train, stopping his fall, nearly yanking his shoulder from its socket_

_Steve reaching out to him_

_The railing coming loose from its holdings just as he grabs Steve’s hand_

_Steve. . ._

_Steve._

Bucky angrily wipes the back of his hand over his eyes and downs his drink in one go. The rubble by the door shifts, and he turns to see Agent Carter picking her way through the debris. She’s wearing her army uniform, and the difference between her now and her in that tight red dress makes a bitter taste rise in the back of his throat. He turns back to his drink as she moves to stand next to him, not even saying hello. It’s unforgivably rude to treat a dame this way, but he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t think Agent Carter would care either, all things considered.

‘I suppose I should offer you a drink’, Bucky says.

‘It would be appreciated’, Carter replies and brings over a chair.

As Bucky pours the drinks - some wine he found, the only non-broken bottle in this shithole - she leans forward on her elbows, fixing him in place with the strength of her gaze. The silence doesn’t have a chance to grow uncomfortably long before Carter speaks again. ‘It wasn’t your fault’, she says, a blatant lie. Steve wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for him.

‘Sergeant Barnes’, she says when he doesn’t reply. ‘It wa-’

‘Bucky’, he interrupts. ‘Call me Bucky’.

To her credit, Agent Carter doesn’t seem put out by his rudeness. ‘Well then’, she says. ‘I suppose you should call me “Peggy” then. It only seems fair’

Bucky looks up, makes eye contact for the first time. ‘I’m sorry’, he says (although he isn’t sure if it’s for his rudeness or for her loss, because she clearly feels Steve’s loss too), before flicking his eyes back down to his glass.

‘It’s no trouble’, she replies. ‘Although there is something I need to discuss with you’.

Bucky raises his head again. What could there be to talk about? The commanding officers had already made it clear that it would be impossible for anyone to survive the fall, and sending in more soldiers to look for Steve’s body could only result in more loss of life. A part of him wanted to go out and search for Steve anyway. They were a pair, a matched set. Bucky-and-steve. And if he died, well at least he’d die how he lived; looking out for a little punk from Brooklyn with a heart too big to turn away from a fight.

The confusion must show on his face because Cart- Peggy continued. ‘Steve’s death has affected all of us’, she says in a level voice which betrays none of the pain he sees in her eyes. ‘However, it has been decided that Captain Roger’s death does not necessarily mean Captain America’s death’.

‘I- I don’t understand’

‘Bucky’, Peggy says sympathetically, leaning forward and reaching over the table to squeeze his hand. ‘Captain America simply cannot die. He’s vital to the war effort, to moral. We simply can’t lose him’.

‘So, what? You’re just going to find some other bastard - pardon my language - to parade around in his suit?’, Bucky demands, pulling his hand away from Peggy’s. ‘What about the serum? I thought you lost the formula?’

Peggy sighs. ‘Bucky, please, hear me out’, she says. ‘We know something happened to you when you were captured. You have accelerated healing, improved vision, quicker reflexes. You’re stronger and faster than before you were captured’. Peggy pauses to see what effect her words have on him. He doesn’t turn away, doesn’t react, but she continues anyway. ‘We also know that Hydra was attempting to replicate Dr Erskine’s serum’.

‘What do you want from me’, Bucky asks, defiant. He hadn’t known that they knew this, hadn’t told anyone. 

Peggy shifts on her seat, crossing her legs and leaning back. ‘We want Captain America. And you, Bucky, are the only man for the job’.

_____________________________

What can he say to that? It’s obvious that a decision has been made. And at least if he’s Captain America it won’t be some stranger pouncing around pretending to be Steve. 

That’s how he finds himself in endless meetings about how to be Captain America. He hadn’t thought it would be so complicated - just put on the uniform, pick up the shield, and take down the bastards that took so much from him. But, no. There are debates about what to do with his hair colour, his height, even his speech patterns, because someone too high up for Bucky to get to has decided that Steve Roger’s death cannot have happened. It gets Bucky’s blood boiling that a man who went above and beyond for his country, who did what was right no matter the cost, has his death swept under the rug and lied about, but there’s nothing he can do. He doesn’t just have to be Captain America; he has to be Steve Rogers as well.

It turns out that he doesn’t have long to prepare. The information from the train raid led them to a Hydra base, a big one. Maybe even the last one. And they need to move quickly to make the most of this opportunity. So, with his hair tucked safely under his helmet and thick soled boots providing the extra inch or so he needs, Bucky finds himself leading a charge. In through the front door, alone, on the motorbike, just like Steve would have done, taking out goon after goon before getting himself captured.

Red Skull monologues for a while but Bucky just keeps his head down and his trap shut, hoping that the shadows and mask hide enough of his face while he counts down the seconds until the Howling Commando’s make their entrance. Sure enough, there’s the tell-tale sound of metal hitting stone as they fire their grappling hooks right on schedule. Bucky takes advantage of Red Skull’s distraction, twisting one of the people holding him in front of him as a shield. Red Skull fires once, missing him, and then the Howling Commandos are bursting through the windows.

Everything’s a blur after that, with Bucky disoriented as he remembers the last time he saw Red Skull in that other Hydra facility so long ago. He fights poorly, nearly getting himself killed. Eventually he gets his arse saved by a few well timed bullets from Agent Carter, and then a quick tongue lashing reminds him of everything riding on this mission. _Say what you like about women in the army_ , Bucky thinks, _but you can’t argue that she’s a damn fine person to have at your back._

Bucky’s fighting his way across a hanger when he sees a jet firing up, and somehow knows that he needs to stop it from leaving. He sprints after it, lungs gasping for air and legs burning, before coming to a stop, the failure weighing heavy on his shoulders. _Steve would have got there_ , he just has time to think before Colonel Philips and Agent Carter skid to a stop next to him in some flashy car - probably one of Stark’s.

‘Get in’, barks Philips from the drivers seat, spurring Bucky into action. He climbs into the front seat of the car and they speed off again as soon as his feet leave the ground. It seems like they aren’t going to make it, but then Philips presses something and flames burst from the sides of the car, propelling them on faster. Impossibly, they gain on the speeding jet.

As Bucky prepares to jump from the car to one of the planes' wheels he turns back to look at Peggy. ‘See you on the other side’, he says with a smirk, suddenly feeling lighter.

Peggy leans forward and brushes her red lips against his cheek. ‘Be sure that you do’, she replies with a warm smile.

Bucky turns to Philips. ‘You gonna give me a kiss too, Colonel?’, he asks with a grin.

‘Just get out’a the damn car’, Philips replies. Bucky winks at him, unseen as Philips has his eyes fixed ahead, and leaps. He somehow, miraculously, manages to hold onto the wheel of the airplane as it taxis off the end of the runway and into the sky. Bucky climbs up the machinery, moving silently through the hold. As he encounters each guard he puts them in a chokehold, silently removing any threats. With shock he realises that all the bombs (and there must be dozens of them in a hold this size) are destined for different cities. He reads the labels - Chicago, New York - and almost laughs at the audacity of it. Only Hydra would be so sure that their plans would succeed that they say where their bombs are going. Smug bastards.

Once he’s satisfied that no more guards are in the lower areas of the planes he finds his way up to the main deck, searching for Red Skull. He isn’t in the pilots chair, but as Bucky moves forward to investigate he hears a gun charge behind him. He leaps to the side, rolling into a crouch with the shield held in front of him once he lands, deflecting two more bullets that the red freak sends his way. 

‘Captain America. You could have the power of the gods. Yet you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations. But, there are limits, to what even you can do, Captain’. Red Skull’s back to monologuing. _Christ almighty_ , Bucky thinks, _Never thought I’d miss the days when I could just shoot the bastards from half a mile away_.‘Or did Erskine tell you otherwise?’. Bucky gets back to his feet and he and Red Skull begin circling each other, guns at the ready. 

Red Skull obviously doesn’t care about his lack of an answer, or maybe he takes it for an answer in its own right. ‘He resented my genius, and tried to deny me what was rightfully mine’, Red Skull continues angrily. ‘But he gave you everything. What made you so special?’.

 _Fuck it_ , Bucky thinks, only one of us is getting off this plane alive, and he raises his hand to take off his helmet. ‘Nothing’, he drawls. ‘I’m just a kid from Brooklyn’.

Red Skull snarls and swirls around, clearly expecting the real Captain America to be lurking behind him somewhere. Bucky takes advantage of his distraction and launches himself forward, landing a few decent punches before getting thrown across the room. Red Skull fires at him as he advances, and Bucky uses the shield to deflect the bullets. One of them hits the casing of the Tesseract, which is prominently displayed in the centre of the room. A crackle of energy is released, arcing across the cockpit.

Bucky throws the shield at the Tesseract as Red Skull throws himself forward. The shield hits right on target, exposing the Tesseract. Bucky can’t take advantage of it though, as he is thrown to the front of the cockpit, bashing his head on the corner of a monitor and knocking a lever, sending the plane into a dive. He struggles to right the plane, not knowing how to work the equipment.

When he looks back up he sees Red Skull holding the Tesseract in his bare hand. All Bucky can do is stare as massive bursts of energy are released until a - a portal? - to space is opened. Red Skull’s hand and face begin to melt, reminding Bucky of the old candles him and Steve had to use when power cut out, as he screams in agony. Mercifully, there is another blinding flash of light, and when Bucky looks back Red Skull is gone and the Tesseract is lying on the floor. Not for long though, as it melts through the metal flooring and drops into the ocean far below.

Bucky turns back to the control panel, finally seeing a radio. He tunes it to the army frequency and prays that the Tesseract hasn’t fried all the technology.

‘Come in, this is Ser- Captain America’, he says desperately. ‘Do you read me?’

‘Captain America?’, says a voice. Bucky isn’t sure, but he thinks it might be Colonel Philips. ‘What is your situation?’

‘Schmidt’s dead, but I’m not sure about my location. All this is in german and half the screens are broken’, Bucky replies with mounting frustration, gesturing to the screens even though the man on the other end can’t see him. Surely there’s a map somewhere? Just a simple map, preferably with YOU ARE HERE written on it. Please God let there be a map. 

Bucky swears. ‘Can’t find any coordinates for you sir. But listen, I’m going to have to put this down, there’s -’

‘Captain, no!’, Peggy exclaims. She must have been listening in on the other end. ‘Just keep looking, we’ll find you a safe landing spot.’

‘Agent Carter, there isn’t going to be a safe landing. This thing’s going too fast and it’s - shit, it’s headed for New York’, Bucky says, finally finding a flight plan. ‘Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die’

‘Are you sure?’, Peggy says, and even over the shitty radio Bucky can hear her voice waver.

‘This is my choice, Peggy’, Bucky replies as he angles the plane down into a dive again. He laughs, a bitter thing. ‘Steve never gave you that dance did he?’

‘No’, Peggy replies. ‘The sheer audacity of it, standing me up like that’. She laughs as well, or it could be a sob. Bucky can’t tell over the radio.

‘I reckon I’d better take you then. Always cleaning up Steve’s messes ain’t I?’. Bucky can see the ground below, approaching far too quickly. His heart is in his throat and he can hear the blood pounding in his ears. 

‘I suppose you’d better, Barnes. A week next Sunday. At the Stork club’, she says. ‘And don’t you dare be late’

‘Wouldn’t dream of standing up someone as pretty as yourself’, Bucky replies. 

_I wonder who they’ll find to replace me_ , he thinks as the ground grows larger to fill the whole windscreen. His very last thoughts aren’t words at all, but a flash of images, all with a skinny, sickly boy from Brooklyn by his side.

_____________________________

There is a horrible noise.

_It’s so cold_

_I can’t move_

There’s a figure in the wreckage, a small boy reaching out his hand

‘Buck! C’mon! Why’re you just lying there?’, the figure says. ‘Aren’t you coming with me?’

The figure stands above him and the sun haloes behind his head. Bucky shakes his head and smiles with a bloody mouth.

‘Hey, Stevie’, he croaks out, throat burning. ‘Thought I’d missed ya’

‘As if, Buck! I was waiting for you. C’mon what’re you waiting for?’

Bucky reached up to take Steve’s hand _(how did I do that I couldn’t move before)_ and Steve smiles so big and bright it makes all Bucky’s pain disappear.

Steve pulls him up _(why is Steve so little he was bigger before how is he so strong)_ and Bucky turns and looks at the sky, Steve still holding onto his hand.

Whiteness envelopes Bucky.

He doesn’t care though.

He has Steve back.

And really, Steve was all he ever needed.

_____________________________

Bucky hears the radio before he notices anything else, chasing the noise up through layers of consciousness until he finally awakes to find himself in a small but comfortable room. It’s well lit, airy, and completely, totally wrong. He can’t put his finger on what makes it wrong though. He isn’t injured, isn’t restrained; really if it weren’t for this feeling of wrongness it would be like he just woke up from a very long sleep.

Bucky sits up, still focused on the radio.

> Philly's have managed to tie it up four to four, but the Dodgers have three men on

> Pitch, it's a strike

He remembers this game, remembers scrounging up money for the nosebleed seats. Remembers sitting so high up that he and Steve could barely tell who was on the field. Remembers having to rely on the commentator to know what was happening as they soaked up the May sun. Remembers how Steve looked with the sun hitting his hair so it looked like pure gold and -

 _Steve_

Bucky puts his head in his hands as he remembers the events of the past - four? five? - days. Before he can get himself together before he can just _breathe, damn it,_ the door opens and a woman comes into the room.

‘Good morning’, she says. ‘Or should I say afternoon’, she corrects with a smile.

She seems like a nice girl. There’s a light in her eyes, and she looks so much like Peggy that it can’t be a coincidence. But. . . her hair. No self respecting dame in the army would have her hair like that, curls hanging loose. None of the women he’s seen overseas went out with anything less than a perfectly styled hairdo, but this women looks like she just stepped out of the shower. There’s even a wet patch on her shirt where her hair has dripped onto it. Whoever she is, she’s no nurse, no Allied agent.

‘Where the hell am I’, Bucky demands, standing up to face the woman. ‘And who the hell are you’. With this sort of set up she could be anyone. Could be a Hydra agent. Shit, was Schmidt even dead? He never did get a visual on his body

‘You’re in a recovery room in New York city’, replies the woman. ‘We recovered your body from the wreckage of Schimdt’s plane’.

‘Bullshit’, Bucky says. ‘This game. It’s old. I know because I was there. I watched it’. Bucky pauses and watches how the nurse sets her jaw and steels her eyes. ‘So I’ll ask again. Where. The hell. Am I’.

The woman turns her head and speaks into a button on her collar, all without breaking eye contact. Except it isn’t a button, it’s a microphone of some sort. ‘All agents, code 13’, she says, and she might continue but if she does Bucky doesn’t stick around to listen. 

Instead, he’s out the door, past black suited agents, and crashing through some paper screen thing. Ahead of him he sees a metal door set into the wall. It even has “EXIT” written above it in green neon letters. Bucky runs through, setting off some kind of alarm, and he’s-

In a street?

There are cars around but they aren’t like any cars Bucky’s ever seen before. And the buildings! Dozens, maybe even hundreds of stories tall. All of them with screens on them. Bright lights. Flashing colours. Buy this. Look at her. Look like her. It’s insane. Like something out of one of Stark’s wet dreams.

Bucky realises he’s standing in the middle of an intersection. His shock has allowed the agents - these ones with body armour and guns - to surround him. In his peripheral vision he sees more agents keeping civilians back. A man - tall, dark skinned, eye patch - steps forward. 

‘At ease, soldier’, he says. ‘Sorry about the theatrics back there, but we thought it would be best to break it to you slowly’.

‘Break what to me?’, Bucky asks, confusion and frustration bubbling under his skin.

‘You’ve been asleep, soldier. For almost seventy years’.

Bucky steps back, feeling for all the world like he’d just been punched. He looks around the square again in shock. Seventy years.

_Shit_

‘You going to be ok?’, the man asks.

‘Yeah’, Bucky replies, stunned. Seventy years. ‘So this is New York, huh’.

‘It is indeed’, says the man. ‘And you’ve got a whole lot of a lot of catching up to do’.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky joins the Avengers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! This chapter just didn't want to get written haha

It’s two in the morning when Director Fury tracks him down about a week later. Bucky has an apartment - a nice one - but he doesn’t spend much time there. SHIELD hasn’t made a secret of the fact that they’re watching him, and he’d be pretty stupid if he didn’t notice that everyone on his floor is an agent. They say it’s for his own security, making sure no one tries to get to him, and he keeps his trap shut instead of asking how people would even know he’s alive, let alone in the building. May as well play along.

Instead, he spends most of his time in a half-finished building a few blocks away. It’s high enough that he has a clear line of sight for a few blocks and isolated enough to provide a sense of security that his apartment doesn’t. He prefers the twelfth floor, with it’s unfinished exterior walls providing a sense of openness. One of the few things he hates about his apartment is the size. It’s roomy enough, sure, but in the middle of the night when he dreams of crushing ice and being strapped to a table in a Hydra POW camp it isn’t really enough.

‘Nice place you’ve got here’, Fury remarks, looking out over the city, pulling Bucky away from his thoughts. ‘A bit high for my taste though’.

‘Yeah, well I see better from up high’, Bucky replies, flicking the ash from his cigarette. He takes another drag, liking how the end glows against the night sky. ‘You here for a reason, sir?’

Fury looks back to him, stepping further into the centre of the room. ‘You’re aware of what SHIELD does, yes?’, he says.

It isn’t a question, not really, but Bucky replies anyway. ‘Sure’, he says. ‘Counter-terrorism and intelligence’. He trails into silence and then speaks again. ‘No disrespect Director, but why’re you asking me this?’

Fury doesn’t answer immediately, turning to look back over the city. ‘We have a situation’, he says eventually. ‘A mission’.

‘And you’re calling me in’

‘I’m aware that it isn’t ideal. I’d prefer it if we could keep you away from the action until you adjust. However, this is an unusual situation, Barnes, and it calls for unusual soldiers’. Fury turns again to face Bucky, silhouetted against the New York skyline, hands clasped behind his back. Bucky half expects to see an American flag waving patriotically behind him. ‘We need you, Barnes. Your country needs you’.

‘Well when you put it like that I don’t see how I can say no’, Bucky replies with a wry smile.  
\---------------------  
Bucky moves out at 0800 the next morning, running on two hours of sleep and some of the worst coffee he’s ever had. He’s accompanied by two agents - Bryant and Dixon - on the drive out to the briefing point. They’re decent blokes, so he tries not to take it personally when he’s told he has to sit in the back of the windowless van for the drive out.

‘Top secret location, man’, Bryant says apologetically. ‘I could send Dixon back there to keep you company if it’d make you feel better’.

Bucky shakes his head, laughs it off. ‘Nah, you stay up front. I might try get some shut eye on the trip out, so there’s no need to get you stuck back there too’.

‘If you’re sure’, Dixon says, clearly relieved. ‘We’ll crank the radio up, get some tunes going for you’

Half an hour later, once the agents have tired of loudly debating the merits of bands he’s never heard of, Bucky manages to drift off. He doesn’t sleep well; a combination of motion sickness and claustrophobia waking him at random intervals. Eventually he gives up on sleep and simply listens to the agents talking, but they’re too quiet for him to make out what they’re saying. He isn’t sure how long he sits like that, but when the van finally stops to let him out the sun is high in the sky. They’re in some kind of industrial harbour; cranes everywhere, people in bright yellow vests running around, and the biggest goddamn ship Bucky’s ever seen right in the center of the tornado of activity.

‘This is where we leave you, man’, Bryant says. ‘Clearance levels are fucked up around here; me and Dixie are allowed to know where this thing is, but you’re the only one of us allowed to actually go on it’.

‘And thank God for that’, interrupts Dixon. ‘That thing gives me the creeps’.  
Bucky looks out over the port. 

‘What, the ship?’, Bucky asks. ‘Doesn’t look so bad to me’.

Bryant and Dixon share a look. ‘Yeah, man’, replies Bryant, a beat too late for it to be convincing. ‘Dixon’s just not great with boats’.

Bucky nods, not letting his smile fade. He likes these guys, sure. He just doesn’t particularly trust them. ‘So do I just. . .’. Bucky trails off, gesturing towards the boat.

‘Yeah, man, I guess just head up to the checkpoint up there. There was meant to be someone here to get you, but I guess someone got their roster fucked up’, Bryant says. ‘We’d show you where to go ourselves, but you know how it is’.

‘Don’t worry about it, I’m sure I can find my own way’, Bucky says. ‘You fella’s have a safe trip back’

Bucky walks toward the checkpoint as the pair of agents get back into the car and prepare to drive away, looking around as he does so. It’s similar to the docks he used to work on before he enlisted, and it’s comforting having that connection to his past in the middle of this new high-tech world. He’s about halfway to the checkpoint when someone comes running up behind him. He’s clearly one of the higher up agents; dark grey suit, clean shoes, hair slicked back.

‘Hey- hey! Sergeant Barnes’, the agent calls, prompting Bucky to stop and wait for them to catch up to him.

‘Sergeant Barnes’, the agent says with a nod once he’s reached Bucky. He continues walking though, clearly expecting Bucky to follow his lead and walk with him. ‘My apologies for not meeting you at the van, we’re a little short on manpower at the moment’.

Bucky doesn’t reply and the agent doesn’t expect him to, continuing speaking he flashes his id card at the woman at the checkpoint. ‘I don’t have time to debrief you on the situation right now, but this should catch you up before the other members of your team arrive’, he says as he passes Bucky a tablet. This one, like all the other tablets Bucky has seen at SHIELD, has a stylised “Stark” logo on it. _Howard’s clearly done well for himself if he’s still putting stuff like this out_ , Bucky thinks.

They continue past another checkpoint and up a ramp onto the deck of the ship. ‘Team, sir?’, Bucky asks.

‘I really don’t have time to go into this, but it’s all on there’, the agent says, gesturing at the tablet. The agent looks around quickly. ‘Agent Romanov doesn’t seem to be here yet, but I’m sure she’ll be with you shortly’, he says, and then he’s gone, back down the ramp and into the frenzy of activity on the ground, before Bucky can thank him.

Bucky looks around. It’s a similar layout to the ships he saw back in the war. The main difference is the planes - and there are dozens of them - tied down to the deck. He starts to head over to one to get a closer look, but before he can get there a red headed woman intercepts him. Strangely, she's wearing civilian clothes, rather than the suits and visibility gear everyone else is wearing.

‘Sergeant Barnes?’, she asks, although she clearly already knows who he is.

‘Yes ma’am’, he says.

She looks at him a little oddly for that and he thinks he must have said the wrong thing again, been too formal, too polite, too old fashioned, but then she glances away and he sees a ghost of a smile that she can’t quite hide. ‘We’re going to put you into one of the smaller briefing rooms for a while. Stark’s being difficult so it’ll give you a chance to look over the briefing packet before he arrives’, she says, aloof professionalism back in place.

‘Wait- Stark? As in Howard Stark?’, Bucky asks disbelievingly as he is lead towards a stairwell. Howard would be well into his eighty’s by now, possibly even into his nineties. Surely he doesn’t still work for SHIELD?

Agent Romanov looks back with an indecipherable look on her face. ‘No, his son Tony’, she says. She hesitates for a moment before continuing. ‘A small word of advice; don’t mention Howard in front of him. I’ve worked with Tony before and I don’t think he’d react well’.

They walk down two more flights of stairs in silence, and then go along a corridor to come to a stop outside a door, Agent Romanov always two paces ahead of Bucky. ‘I trust you know how to use that?’, she asks, gesturing at the tablet he holds in his hand. Bucky nods and she responds with a small smile. ‘I’ll leave you to it then’, she says before walking back down the corridor. ‘I’ll see you later’, she calls over her shoulder as she opens the door to the stairwell again.

Bucky goes in the room and sits at the head of a long table. It only takes him a minute to remember how to turn on the tablet and navigate files, so before long he’s watching the video files of his future team members in disbelief.

One uncontrollable monster, one boozed up playboy with daddy issues, one ex-KGB spy, and, of course, Hydra’s bastardised super-soldier from the 40’s. These people aren’t soldiers, aren’t people who work in a team. Of the four of them, only he and Black Widow (as he discovered Agent Romanov’s field name is) have any military experience. Ironman has a blatant disrespect for the army and government - really any one who tries to give him orders - and Hulk has been actively evading the army for years. _Nothing like the Howling Commandos_ , he thinks, before pushing aside the thought and accompanying wave of misery. He doesn’t know how they’re going to be able to work together. These people are used to working alone, with no support and no one to answer to.

What sort of mission could possibly need a team like this?

It doesn’t take long to find the answer to that. An explosion (implosion?) in a SHIELD facility caused by the Tesseract letting some alien from another dimension through the portal.

Bucky leans back and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. He sits there for a moment before making a decision. Finally, he grabs the tablet and stalks out of the room. He’s just trying to decide whether to go up or down the stairs - Fury would probably be below decks, but would he take these stairs to get there or another flight - when another agent appears behind him.

‘Can I help you, Sergeant Barnes?’, he asks.

It’s a credit to Bucky’s self control that he doesn’t flinch when the agent speaks. He hadn’t heard the agent approach at all - one moment he’d been alone in the corridor and the next the agent was standing behind him. ‘Yes’, he says after regaining his composure. ‘I’m looking for Director Fury’.

‘I’m sorry, Director Fury isn’t available at the moment’, the agent says with a placid smile. ‘Perhaps I could help instead?’.

Bucky looks back toward the stairwell, rolling his lips together while he thinks. ‘No disrespect sir, but this is pretty high level stuff. It isn’t really my place to go spreading this information around’, he says after a moment.

‘The Avengers Initiative?’, the agent asks. After Bucky nods he continues; ‘My name is Phil Coulson. I’ve worked with most of these people before, and I’m the one who convinced Fury to put them in a team together. If you have any questions about the mission you can come to me’.

‘Wait - you came up with this?’, Bucky asks incredulously, gesturing to the tablet. ‘Do you really think these people will be able to work together?’.

‘There may be a few issues’, Coulson concedes. ‘But, as I’m sure you’ve realised, this situation isn’t exactly something we can send ordinary soldiers into. We need elite soldiers, and these people are best for the job’.

Coulson moves past Bucky into the stairwell, clearly expecting Bucky to follow him down.

‘These people aren’t soldiers, sir. Can we trust Ironman and the Hulk to listen to orders in the field?’. Bucky pauses but doesn’t wait for Coulson to answer. ‘This isn’t a team, sir. This is a group of people who work alone - and do it very well - but still work alone. You can’t expect them to slot into a team. It just doesn’t work that way’.

Coulson stops on a landing and turns to face Bucky. ‘Sergeant. You have been assigned this mission and this team. Once they realise how high the stakes are they will work together, I’m certain of it. Until then you will keep your doubts to yourself. Have I made myself clear?’, Coulson asks, his expression and calm voice betraying none of the anger that Bucky is sure lurks beneath the surface.

‘Yes sir’, Bucky replies, frustration bleeding into his tone.

‘Good’, Coulson says. ‘Because you’re about to meet your team now’. Coulson opens the door behind him and walks through, Bucky half a step behind him. They seem to be in the central hub of the ship, standing on a raised area above rows of computer terminals. Agents are everywhere, but there are three other people in civilian clothes on the raised area. Bucky recognises them from the files; Bruce Banner leaning against a wall, Tony Stark, slouched in one of the chairs around the large round table, and Agent Romanov talking to another woman in SHIELD gear.

Coulson walks over to the table and stands with his back to the large windows and computers. Bucky, along with the rest of the team, gravitate towards the table and sit down. With a shock Bucky realises that he can see clouds out the window, not water like he’d expected. They must be well below the water line this far down. Unless. . . ‘Are we flying?’, he whispers to Stark, leaning over the empty seat he left between the two of them.

‘Yup’, Stark says, not looking up from his phone. ‘I’d say it’s impressive, but I’m looking at the motor schematics now and they could easily be made about 80% more efficient. It’s lazy engineering, really. However much SHIELD paid these guys is too much’.

Bucky leans back and looks over to Romanov, who’s clearly been listening in. She smirks and then pointedly looks over to Coulson, who’s clearly preparing to speak.

‘Mr Stark’, he says, prompting Tony to hold up a finger.

‘I can listen and work at the same time, Coulson. Knock yourself out’, he replies.

‘Alright then’, Coulson says after a tense moment, refusing to meet Bucky’s eyes. ‘I trust you’ve all looked over the briefing we gave you earlier and are up to date on the situation’. Coulson looks around the table, assessing each person’s response. He must be satisfied with whatever he sees because he continues. ‘Our facial recognition software has located Loki in Germany. Three of you will come with me to intercept him, but Dr Banner, you will be remaining here in the labs. We need to know whether he has the Tesseract with him or if it’s at a secondary location’. 

Banner nods and looks relieved, and Bucky feels guilty about the flash of relief that floods through him knowing he won’t be dealing with the Hulk right away. An agent gets up from their computer and leads Banner away, presumably to his lab.

The remaining three team members follow Coulson up the stairwell; Romanov and Bucky with the easy movements of soldiers following a commander, and Stark with the resentful movements of a man unused to being expected to follow orders.

Once outside the four of them go towards one of the larger planes on deck, and with a shock Bucky realises how high they really are. There are birds flying below them for Christ’s sake!

‘You alright there, Capsicle?’, Stark asks, startling Bucky.

‘Peachy’, Bucky replies scathingly. ‘A military plane’s just where I want to be right now’.

Stark looks for all the world like he’s just been punched when Bucky brushes past him to get onto the plane. ‘Touchy subject’, Stark mutters, a hard line to his jaw. ‘Good to know’.

‘Get on the plane, Stark, we need to leave’, Coulson calls from somewhere inside.

‘You know I could leave an hour later than you and still get there first, right?’, Stark asks, bravado and swagger back in place as he boards the plane.

Coulson smirks. ‘Not in this plane’, he replies.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first time writing fanfiction in years, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. A lot of the dialogue is from CA:TFA


End file.
